The Wind in the Willow Trees
by deathgrowsmyjasmine
Summary: Just a short wedding day fic. Hope you enjoy it!


**Hey. FINALLY got around translating this. I am really, really unhappy with the translation, but if I start angsting about it now, I will never publish it. Usually I write in English anyway, and not in German first, so this was some sort of experiment. It's not beta'd, and as you have probably figured out I am not native speaker, so if there are any crass mistakes, let me know! (The very first line is a bad translation of my favourite Astrid Lindgren quote, by the way.)**

**Thanks, enjoy! :)**

Sometimes it is as if life picks one of its days and says: "I want to give you everything! You will be such a rose-red day, a day that shines brightly in the memory, when all other days are forgotten." When John looked out of the small window, he knew that day would forever shine in his memory. With a sky of such pure azure, that all other skies he remembered looked pale against it, and a few clouds lazily floating off to the distance in the warm May wind, it seemed as if nature had poured all its beauty over South England.

John closed his eyes, just for a moment. It was silent in his room, but the breeze carried the muffled voices of the guests and the rushing of the wind in the willow trees through the window. The bright laughter and the steps of a little girl that ran down the path near the house put a smile on his face. John took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The sun beams bathed the room in warm, yellow light in which the dust sparkled.

Inhale, exhale.

The opening of the door broke the peaceful silence and John flinched. Harry stepped in, a wide smile on her face, and gave him a loving look. She knelt down in front of the chair he was sitting on and took his hands in hers. "Everything okay? Are you nervous?"

"Nervous? NERVOUS? I'd rather go back to Afghanistan. That was a piece of cake compared to this." He ran his shaking fingers through his hair which he had combed 5 minutes before.

Harry laughed. "It's gonna be fine! Not long now."

"How is he?"

"Drives Lestrade crazy. Walks up and down like a caged tiger and asks about you." She got up and pulled him with her. "Look at you." Harry tugged at his sleeves, picked one of her hairs off his shoulder, saved his hair as much as possible and smiled at him, apparently satisfied with her work. "Ready?"

"No."

"Fantastic! Let's go!"

She pushed him out of the door, and with shaking knees he walked down the stairs. The noises from the garden grew louder, and finally John stepped outside. Women smiled at him, men nodded encouragingly, the guests took their seats. Harry squeezed his hand, and together they walked to the front; suddenly the short path between their friends and families chairs seemed so much longer. They made it, eventually, and John's sister left him to find her seat, and although she was only 3 metres away from him, he felt terribly lonely.

Inhale, exhale.

The willow trees in between they were standing rushed in the breeze and he managed to calm down a bit.

The guests murmured in anticipation and the voice of Molly's daughter could be heard over the low noise. "Mum, can I go to John? He has to stand there all alone!"

"Shh, love..." She ruffled the blonde hair of the girl who was sitting on her lap. "He won't be alone much longer."

In that moment the door of the cottage was opened and Lestrade came out first.

And right after him, he. They only had eyes for each other from that moment on; John gulped, when he finally, finally stood next to him and whispered: "Couldn't you for once have tried not to look so great that I feel bad?"

Sherlock smiled. "Shut up, John. You look great." The sunbeams falling through the leaves drew bright patterns on his face. "Ready?"

"Ready."

The registrar rose from her seat and all looks were on her when the wind carried her voice through the garden. "Today we came together for a wonderful reason. You couldn't have wished for a day more beautiful than this one, and it's the day of two very special people: John and Sherlock, who decided to walk the path of life officially together from now on. From what you hear, they will rather run, though." Sherlock grinned at John, and the guests mumbled in agreement. "Please give your vows now." Sherlock nodded at him, _you __go first, John_, and he swallowed.

Inhale, exhale.

"Sherlock, I was so alone, and I owe you so much. I love you in London's cold nights, out in the streets, I love you on lazy days, home in Baker Street. I've loved you, three years, and I've waited, I've loved you since the day we met. And I promise to love you until the end of my life, on days with cases and in days without cases. On days in which we run through the city and on days I find experiments in our fridge. I love you, and I can't wait to spend my life telling you this over and over again."

Sherlock smiled and took his hands. "John, you are perfect. You make the boredom disappear, you put my mind to rest, even when I think everything and everyone is too slow. You never doubted me, you are too good for me. You make me a better man, you hold me together when I have the feeling everything is falling apart." The wind ruffled his hair, and John blinked a bit too fast. "I love you, John, and I am incomplete when you are gone. I never want to be without you again."

A few moments they just looked at each other. Then they turned back to the registrar, hand in hand.

"We are now coming to the most important part of the ceremony." John squeezed Sherlock's hand a bit tighter than necessary. The young woman turned to him. "John Hamish Watson, do you want to take this man to be your husband?"

"I do." His voice nearly broke, but his eyes were fixed on Sherlock.

"Sherlock, do you want to take this man to be your husband?"

"Of course. Yes. I mean, I do."

"Then I now pronounce you a married couple. You can exchange rings now." Sherlock grabbed the small plate first on which the rings shone in the sun. They had chosen simple golden ones, and Sherlock carefully put it on John's finger. His own hands were shaking slightly, and John gently held them when he put the ringer on his newly wed husbands finger.

Before the registrar could even say a word, they were kissing, under an azure sky, the wind in the willow trees and their friend's cheers in their ears.

It became a day that shone brightly in their memories forever.


End file.
